Bootstraps and Rum
by meowface
Summary: Takes place during and right after the first mutiny. Bootstrap's thoughts on the mutiny, his family and being a pirate in general.. Jack’s thoughts on putting his trust in people, revenge, and well…rum. Not slash.


Bootstraps and Rum Disclaimer: I do not own anything! Neither characters (JACK ISN'T MINE NOOOOOOOOO) nor do I own the black pearl (OR I WOULD BE ON IT THIS VERY MOMENT WITH JACK) and lastly I do not own the island Jack was marooned on OR the cannon Bootstrap was tied to.  
  
Author's note/description of story- Ok this story is about what happened right after Jack was marooned on that Godforsaken spit of land. Bootstrap Bill Turner's thoughts on the mutiny, his family, and being a pirate in general. Jack's thoughts on putting his trust in people, revenge, and well...rum. This is not slash, I don't know why whenever people here the words, so and so's thoughts they think of slash, don't worry there is no slash. Also this is my first drama fanfiction so be kind towards it. Well not too kind because when I don't write fanfiction I usually write drama and I write a lot so you can be hard on it... I guess...by the way this account name is owned by 2 people but this story was only written by me; Val.  
  
The story...  
  
Bootstrap Bill Turner looked down at the gold in his hand. The light bounced off the eyes of the skull engraved on it making it look even more sinister.  
  
It's all you're fault he thought staring at. At least he didn't take one from the chest, no he felt too guilty to do that. He had taken this one from another crew member, Ragetti to be exact. He had dropped it while looking for his wooden eye. Bootstrap knew what he had to do with it, give it away, these men deserved to be cursed and to remain cursed. He could only think of one person to give it to, his son. He felt bad about giving him such a horrible thing, but he had to. Too long had his conscience been playing games with him, too long had he heard Jack Sparrow's words rung in his head, "The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers." He had said, giving a long sad look at his crew.  
  
Bootstrap had looked away. He didn't want to commit mutiny on Jack; he didn't even want to be a pirate. He really wanted to be with his wife and son William. He remembered how his wife had told Will that his father was a merchant sailor. This wasn't completely a lie, he was a merchant sailor but he could not support his family with the little income he made, so he became a pirate.  
  
Then he remembered the day when he became part of the crew of The Black Pearl Jack Sparrow then a lively man in his 20's, some said he was too young to be a captain, but he did his job and he did it well. Then there was Barbossa, bootstrap had never trusted Barbossa. Barbossa was the man who gave him that nickname Bootstrap Bill. Bootstrap didn't like the name, no he like Will more and Jack respected that. Well at least someone gets to enjoy the name Will Bootstrap thought, picturing his son.  
  
"BLOODY PIRATES" Captain Jack Sparrow yelled at the top of his lungs to no one in particular. The heat was sweltering and he wished he were on his ship, with the sea air dancing on his face. He would give anything to be at the helm of that ship, even to be able to feel the wood of the wheel of the ship in his firm grasp. But no, he was stuck here on this godforsaken spit of land. Barbossa was right; he put his trust in people too easily, and for what? For them to betray him? Maybe he should be more like Barbossa one of those leave no survivors kind of pirates. But that was what made Jack Sparrow unique his remarkably daft behaviors and sometimes stunning brilliance. Right now he wanted to see nothing other than Barbossa down in the depths of Davy Jones Locker. No actually he wanted to see him farther down than that.  
  
He looked at his gun, "Can't believe they think I would shoot me-self. Captain Jack Sparrow is fine on his onesies. Then again if I were all on me onesies I wouldn' be a Captain, now would I?" Jack murmured. He pondered this question. Maybe he wasn't "Captain" after all. He stared at his gun, another thought in his head, but he dismissed that one by saying  
  
"Suicide is for cowards, and Jack Sparrow is no coward." Suddenly he knew what to do with this gun. He WOULD see that his betraying first mate would find himself in the deepest circle of hell, he was sure of it.  
  
But he still didn't understand why his crew committed mutiny. They had all been through so much with him. They had disappeared under the eyes of the West India Company. (Though Jack had come out of it with his pirate brand.) They had sacked Nassau without firing a single shot. That's another thing, Barbossa told him not to be so easy on his captives, or anyone else for that matter. Barbossa seemed to want to see every one else in the world dead except him and his crew. Well actually sometimes not even his crew.  
  
"You know what I need right now? A good drink. I'd be very much obliged if I could have one" Jack said meekly to no one in particular again. He had come quite accustomed to talking to himself now. He was starting to wonder if he was going in the least bit crazy.  
  
Suddenly the sand underneath him gave way and he found himself sitting amongst hundreds of rum bottles." God really does answer your prayers!" He laughed.  
  
It was about a month after sending the gold to his son and Bootstrap's conscience was still annoying him. Deep inside he knew it wasn't enough for him to know what they did was wrong. The crew had to know it too. That's how he found himself in Barossa's cabin having a chat with him. It wasn't a long talk but it was long enough for Barbossa to be consumed with white hot anger.  
  
"It's not right with the code!" Bootstrap argued.  
  
"He's the one who led us to the gold. He's the reason we're cursed." Barbossa yelled.  
  
"You deserve to be cursed and I saw to it that you will forever be cursed." Bootstrap replied thinking back to the Aztec Gold that he had stolen.  
  
Not long after he found himself sinking into the black oblivion of the Caribbean water. He might be forever cursed but at least his conscience was clear. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------- William, a good strong name ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------- Authors note-Yep that's the end. I wanted to end with a quote by Jack. Please review. Tell me if this story was any good; tell me if I should continue writing drama. PLEASE REVIEW THAT'S ALL I'M ASKING! 


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